Human Is Where the Heart Is
by Nocturne in C Moll
Summary: Written for a collaboration challenge at MoonlightAholics with AggieVamp . Something that could have happened between Eps. 12 & 13: While Mick discovers the downside of his rush to enjoy his temporary mortality, Josef makes an important decision.


Author's note: This was written for a reader-writer collaboration challenge at MoonlightAholics. AggieVamp came up with some scenes she would like to have seen on the show, and I put two of them together. She was also my beta for this story and inspirational on the title--and cherry Kool-Aid.

* * *

**Human Is Where The Heart Is  
**

Josef stopped outside the door of the penthouse and took a few deep breaths, then pressed the remote entry key in his pocket to open the door.

Strange smells immediately assaulted his nose and he nearly tripped over a pizza box only to put his foot through an ice cream carton that was lying on the floor near the door. "What the—" he kicked off the ice cream carton and looked up. Nearly every flat surface of the apartment was covered with containers of every conceivable kind of take-out food.

And sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, clad only in boxers, with a cold cloth covering his head, three fans pointed at him, and his feet in a bucket of ice water, was a very red Mick St. John.

Josef stood there for several moments, just looking at his friend, alternately opening and closing his mouth as if he kept deciding to speak and then thinking better of it.

"It's not funny, Josef."

Josef put up his hands. "Hey—I'm not laughing, Mick..."

Mick's expression indicated that he did not believe him.

"Okay, I'm not laughing _out loud_."

Mick heaved a sigh.

"Hee hee hee…" Josef finally let a few chuckles escape as he stepped closer. "Geez, Mick, you're the colour of blood!"

"I know," he groaned. "Beth and I went to the beach…"

"—_Where_?" Josef sputtered. "—on Mercury?!"

"We went to Venice Beach."

"And does Blondie look like some kid dropped their Barbie in their cherry Kool-Aid?"

Mick glared at him. "No…"

Josef raised an eyebrow.

Mick tilted his head resignedly and licked his cracked lips. "—_Beth_ is used to remembering to put sunscreen on. I, on the other hand, haven't used it in over half a century...and any memories I did have of it weren't pleasant."

"Ah," Josef nodded. "And here I thought old habits died hard. But apparently they just…die." He looked around the room. "I know you're enjoying being temporarily human and all, buddy, and I know meals are a little more…complicated…now, but—" he picked up a carton containing remnants of moo shu pork and just as quickly dropped it back on the coffee table "—would it kill you to do the dishes or take out the trash?" He gingerly lifted the lid of a nearby pizza box and wrinkled his nose at the mould growing on a half-eaten slice of pizza. "—'Cause it might kill you if you _don't_."

"Why are you here, Josef?"

Josef sat down on the arm of the couch and let out a sigh. He stared at the floor. "I've decided to bring Sarah home…here, to LA."

Mick removed the cloth from his head. "What?"

"She belongs with me," Josef shrugged. "I shouldn't have left her behind…in New York, but I was running. You aren't the only vampire with baggage, Mick. Seeing you living up your dream of being mortal—even if has turned you into—" he wagged his finger up and down in Mick's direction "—this, made me realize something.

"You and me both forget that there is a man inside the vampire."

Mick started in surprise and seemed about to speak when Josef held up a hand to stop him. "Look, Mick, I know 'vampire' wasn't exactly high on your list of 'things I want to be when I grow up,' but it happened. And when you were turned, all you could see was a monster who drank blood and hunted innocents in the dead of night. All you could think about was what you couldn't have, and not about what you did have, or could still have. But Sarah didn't know what I was when she fell in love with me; but she found out and she loved me anyway in spite of it—so much that she wanted to become a vampire to be with me—_forever_. If that's not true love, I don't know what is.

"Being a vampire isn't all we are, Mick. The real difference between a human and a vampire isn't sunburns and day-old moo shu pork—it's time. Vampires have all the time in the world. It's what we do with it that makes us a man—or a monster. I let the vampire take over when Sarah…" he paused and swallowed, "…when Sarah went to sleep, and now the man has finally decided he ain't gonna sit back and take it anymore.

"For better or for worse, I should be with her. If it had been me, lying there, she wouldn't have left me. Nothing would have torn her from my side. But I was weak—I couldn't handle the pain of seeing her like that, knowing that _I_ did that to her. So I ran across the country and threw myself into a life she would have hated—punishing myself with a life of empty pleasures, and her, in a way, for not being with me.

"This may shock you, but I don't always like what I've become. I'm lonely…without her. And even though she's asleep, and she may never wake up, being near her makes me feel like the man I was when I with her. She wrote that our love could overcome any obstacle—and it's true. She's been in a coma for over fifty years and I still love her as much as when she went in it. It doesn't matter that the universe doesn't seem to be on our side—_screw_ the universe. I waited 350 years to find her, and I'll damn well wait 350 more for her to wake up if I have to."

"Wow," Mick exhaled.

Josef shrugged with his eyebrows. "Yeah…well, what can I say, deep down I'm a romantic. —But don't tell anyone." He grabbed the lapels on his jacket and yanked them straight. "_I_ still have a reputation to uphold."

"I don't even know what to say, Josef—this thing you're doing, it's incredible."

"Yeah, what can I say—I'm a complex character who's greatly underrated."

Mick was nodding with a slow smile. "I may even have to rethink my initial impression of you—or at least revise it."

"What, that I'm a pompous ass?" Josef broke into a little grin.

"That'd be the one," Mick smirked.

"Well, if you give that up, then maybe I'd be forced to admit that you are cut out to be a vampire—just not the kind you think."

Mick fell silent. "Josef?" he finally said a few minutes later.

"Yeah, Mick?"

He held out a tube with a sheepish look. "Do you think you could you spread some aloe vera gel on my back? It hurts—" he winced "—to move."

Josef rolled his eyes and stepped forward to take the tube as Mick inched up a little on his seat to give him better access. Josef moved around behind him and squirted some of the gel into his hands. He rested his hands on Mick's shoulder blades for a few moments, then lifted them and grinned at the big white palm prints left behind before squeezing some more gel directly onto Mick's back and spreading it around.

"Ahhh," Mick sighed, stretching a little, "I have _never_ appreciated cold vampire hands _so much_."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to this," Josef snapped playfully. "I've been a lot of things in my 400 years, but cabana boy to a mortal has never been one of them—and it never will be. By the way," he leaned in so his mouth was right beside Mick's ear, "if you _ever_ tell _anyone_ about this—"

Mick twisted around to face him. "Hey—if you ever tell anyone about _this_…" he pointed to himself.

"Perfect, I'm glad we understand each other," Josef clapped Mick on the shoulder. "Ooh—sorry," he added quickly as Mick hissed in pain. "Although…can I at least get a picture?"

"_No_!"

"Easy, Mick…I was just kidding!" Josef said breezily as he quickly massaged Mick's shoulders with more aloe vera. "You, my friend, have got to learn to laugh at yourself. It's easy—I do it all the time!"

Mick snorted. "Since when does Josef Kostan laugh at himself?"

"Oh, I meant at you."

"Right," Mick rolled his eyes, but one corner of his mouth quirked up slightly. "I guess I probably do look pretty ridiculous."

"'Atta boy—it's a start." Josef started rubbing the cool gel onto the middle of Mick's back.

After a few moments of silence, Mick spoke. "So, when are you going to do it?"

"Next week sometime. I'm still making all the arrangements. It's not as simple as you'd think to move your comatose girlfriend—who's 73 going on 22—across the country."

Mick looked over his shoulder at his friend. "Well, let me know—if you need anything."

"I will. Thanks, man."

Mick turned and put his head down so Josef could do his neck. "_Ahhh_…"

"Okay, I think you can handle the rest," Josef moved out from behind the chair and lobbed the tube of aloe vera to Mick.

"Yeah—thanks, Josef."

"But maybe you can wait till I'm gone before you do—Venice isn't a nudie beach, is it?" he tossed over his shoulder on the way to the fridge.

"You know perfectly well it's not," Mick said tolerantly.

"Right. Yeah—we're all thankful for that." Josef took a bottle of blood out and sniffed it. He shrugged and started walking over to the bar. "—You've been a vampire for, what, 55 years? If that doesn't qualify you for a pasty white boy, then I don't know what does." He started puttering around with glasses and bottles and glanced back at Mick. "—Can I get you anything?"

"For a non-cabana boy, you sure play the part well," Mick grinned. His grin faded as Josef's eyes silvered over. He coughed. "Uh, yeah, I could go for one on the rocks—but, um, without the usual additive."

Josef smirked as he poured the requested drink in addition to one for himself and walked back over to Mick. "Here you go."

Mick looked at the glass in horror, then up at his friend.

"What? —Oh. I'm sorry. I guess I always thought of scotch as the additive—my bad." Josef stuck his finger in the glass and swirled it around in the red liquid, then removed it and licked it lengthwise. "—Sure you don't want this?"

"Pretty sure, yeah," Mick scowled at him.

Josef pursed his lips. "Okay, then." He walked back to the bar and returned immediately with the proper glass.

"_Thanks_," Mick exchanged a wry smile with him as he took the glass.

"So, Mr. Mortal Coil, how are you _really_ enjoying yourself?" Josef settled back on the couch with his drink.

Mick swallowed a mouthful of scotch. "It's—it's great."

"Yeah?" Josef smirked. "—You look great. Did you do something to your hair?"

"Shut up."

"Mortality has its cons, doesn't it," Josef regarded his friend knowingly.

Mick leaned back but grimaced and straightened up immediately when his skin touched the chair. "So does immortality..."

"Sure. But you know, I'll tell you something I learned in my 400 years—"

"—Is this going to be another monk story?" Mick interrupted.

"What, didn't you like that one?" Josef pouted.

Mick shrugged. "Just curious. Go on."

"A caterpillar spins a cocoon and comes out a butterfly. Does the butterfly immediately turn around and try and get back into the cocoon?" He paused a moment for dramatic effect. "No—it flies away. You can't become a human again, Mick—at least not permanently. Maybe it's time for you to fly away."

"That's deep, Josef—even for you."

"Yes, well, when your best friend mortalizes himself—even if it won't stick—it tends to be thought provoking—in so many ways."

"I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask."

The two friends sat in companionable silence for a few moments, nursing their respective drinks. Josef finished his off first, and started fumbling for something in his pocket. When he leaned in to set his empty glass on the coffee table, Mick's stomach caught his eye.

"—What?" Mick said uncomfortably when he noticed his friend staring.

"Dude…maybe you should cut back on the human food a little—I think you're getting a potbelly!"

"What?!" Mick looked down with a frown and pawed at his stomach. "I am _not_!" He froze in the next moment when he thought he heard the unmistakable click of a camera phone—but when he looked up, he was alone.

"_Great_," he muttered to the empty room and knocked back the rest of his scotch.

* * *

Josef lay down on the coverlet next to a serenely sleeping Sarah and smiled as he tenderly stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Sarah…your prodigal lover has finally brought you home."

He sat up and leaned back against the headboard, just watching her sleep for a while. Then he took her hand in his. "I'm sorry it took me so long, doll. When you didn't wake up, I—" he blinked "—I was really screwed up for a while. But my friend—Mick, you met him once, sort of—he became mortal again for a while, and...well, it's a long story. I'll tell you about it later.

"—But, oh man," he shook his head with a chuckle, "that guy got _the_ worst sunburn I have _ever_ seen in my 400 years. You really have to see it to believe it."

He set a framed photo of a mortal and colourful Mick St. John on Sarah's bedside table and leaned in to kiss her mouth. When his lips parted from hers, he thought he saw a smile.


End file.
